


Paws for Thought

by OutcastTrip1995



Series: Nurturing Nature [9]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Transformation, Shenanigans continue!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 08:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18362285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutcastTrip1995/pseuds/OutcastTrip1995
Summary: One must always stop and think about all options





	Paws for Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Hound's new form! ^^ (Well ... the reference for him ^^'')

“How’s my precious girl today huh? Who’s a good girl?” 

Hound grinned as he rubbed his massiff under her jaw, laughing at her happy pants and whines. 

“You are; that’s right, you are!” 

Sure she hadn’t been a good girl recently … what with the whole fiasco over the massiff’s getting out and eating their weight in kibble; thus emptying an entire storage unit … but Hound didn’t really mind. She was his partner, his best friend and he absolutely adored her. He knew there were other massiff handlers who refused to develop any sort of camaraderie with their animals and to be honest, he and the other handlers of similar mindsets saw them as somewhat poorer teams for it. Ah well; their problem not his. Ruffling his massiff’s ears one last time, he stood and let himself out of her pen. 

“No escaping tonight hey girl? Give old frisky Foxy a break shall we?” 

She just panted, a wide canine grin on her face. Hound laughed and carefully made sure her pen was locked before waving her a goodbye and leaving the pens. He whistled quietly, sticking his hands in the pockets of his kama as he headed out of the massiff compound. He was in the mood for a drink at 79’s … but Fives had cleaned him out in the betting pools the fekker. 

“Guess it’s homebrew back at the barracks for me tonight.” 

He shuddered at the thought. Stone’s homebrew was well … they’d managed to get it out of the jars by breaking the jars themselves, leaving behind stinking bricks of Force knew what. One of the younger Guards had cheekily suggested using them to provide fuel; they probably contained enough alcohol to be flammable. Stone had been pretty offended; throwing one of the homebrew bricks at said guard. They now called the cheeky brat Brook (Booze-Brick had seemed a little too long). Smiling at the memory, Hound tried to remember who else made homebrew as he wound his way through the corridors towards the main barracks. Thorn’s idea of homebrew was ... yeah. To say it was a biohazard was an _understatement_. They’d use it against the Separatists but it’d be considered a war crime. _No way_ was he even considering asking the Commander for any of that poison. Pulling a face, Hound grumbled to himself, bypassing the communal washracks. What was the point in using the washracks when he was only gonna end up smelling of massiff again later? Plus the … slight difference in his odor compared to the others in the guard meant he’d managed to snag a room all to himself. Granted it wasn’t one like the rooms the Commander’s got; but it was his own room and that counted for a lot among clones. 

“Home sweet pit.” 

Hound shucked his armor as he padded into his room, leaving a trail of plating from the door to his bunk. He whistled to himself, undershirt over his head as he stripped it off on the move; walking past the small shaving mirror he kept by his bed and not seeing the yellow eyes watching him. Nor did he see the evil grin, or hear the nasty little chuckle. Instead; still whistling, he tossed his undershirt onto the floor and threw himself onto his bunk. The poor thing squeaked and groaned in protest as it bent under the weight of one very bulky clone practically belly flopping onto its’ aging springs. Hound hummed in satisfaction, squirming around in his blanket until he was comfortably tangled before finally dozing off into a fitful sleep. 

*** 

Hound tossed and turned in his blanket knot, a low whine escaping him as he rolled and face planted into the pillow. He never fully awoke, his eyelids fluttering ever so slightly at one point … but never truly opening. 

*** 

The first thing that hit him when he awoke was the smell. It was beyond repugnant … it swamped his senses and flooded his mouth … he could swear he was able to taste the stench! Groaning as he rolled over, Hound smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

“Jan’o … fuc’in’ … Thor’ … gonna …” 

He yelped out as he rolled entirely off the bed and hit the ground with a rib shaking thud, his blanket falling on top of him and covering him entirely. 

“ _Gah_!” 

Hound struggled with the blanket, kicking frantically until he felt something attached to his foot snag onto the blanket and yank it off. The massiff handler tried to sit up, flopping awkwardly a couple of times before eventually and reluctantly rolling onto his side. Blinking awake properly, a frown twisted his features as he looked around. His room seemed … more grey than usual. And it still stank worse than Thorn’s blacks after he’d been in the gym. Looking down towards his blanket, Hound’s eyes widened in horror and he threw himself (admittedly awkwardly) backwards with a scream of horror. There was _fur_?! Everywhere?! Short yet soft reddish brown fur that covered legs that definitely were not the ones he’d gone to bed with the previous night. And he had freaking _paws_?! One of which was still tangled up in his blanket. Shaking his paw free, Hound shakily stood up … a movement which felt like getting onto his hands and feet rather than actually standing upright. Panting heavily, Hound swallowed around a sandpaper dry throat and actually gave himself a once over. He had to admit, now that he was slowly starting to calm and look at things in a more reasonable manner, he was a rather attractive bugger. He hadn’t the foggiest idea what the fuck he was, but at least he was Coruscant Guard red. Padding over to his bedside table, Hound looked at his reflection in his little shaving mirror. Deep golden eyes stared back at him out of a grinning canine face, large ears flopping goofily down on either side of his head and a long pink tongue lolling out of his mouth as he scrutinised what he saw. 

“Not bad … not me, but not bad.” 

An evil thought flashed across his mind and he let out a sinister little chuckle. He’d seen the massiffs begging for food and other treats simply by looking cute; and he looked a damn sight better than them. He was bound to score! 

“I _gotta_ go freak someone out with this!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to tell me what y'all think! ^^


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